


Feeling it Out

by YesIsAWorld



Category: Harry Styles (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Locker Room, M/M, Pubic Hair, Self-Discovery, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Confusion, Sports Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-22 12:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIsAWorld/pseuds/YesIsAWorld
Summary: Harry lost the grip on his towel, and it fluttered to the ground. The other guy took a step forward, reached down to pick it up, and stepped closer to Harry to return it. Close enough for Harry to see the occasional grey hidden in his beard, the unruly pit hair, still wet and clumped together, the way his dark chest hair continued down, through the middle of his belly and directly to his—Harry jerked his eyes up to see the the other guy's questioning look.
Relationships: Jeff Azoff/Harry Styles
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59
Collections: Hairy Styles Pubefest 2020





	Feeling it Out

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Jen for putting together this whole incredible fest!  
> Thank you to [disgruntledkittenface](http://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/) for the beta and for all the handholding. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

“See everyone at Pizzazz!” Niall zipped up his hoodie and gave a two-finger salute before walking toward the locker room exit with his hockey stick and oversized bag. A few others from the team walked out with him.

“Don’t worry,” Harry intoned, as he toweled off his chest hair. “I’ll find a ride.” Niall had driven Harry to the rec center for their floor hockey game, but Niall’s need for a pint meant he waited for no man… Harry included. At least Niall would wait there for Harry, to give him a ride back to their apartment after their weekly post-game drinks. 

“Pizzazz?” the new guy asked, as he dried between his legs. “On Rt 19?” He looked a little older than the rest of the guys—Harry and his friends were barely out of college—but Harry was just glad they had one more player this session so the teams would all be even when someone called out. Which had already happened. On their first game of the session.

“It’s tradition,” Harry said. “We all go out for a beer and fries or wings or whatever afterwards.”

“Oh.” The guy stood there, water still running down his thighs, towel draped artlessly around his shoulders, totally naked. “Cool.”

Harry dried off his pubes next. “You in?” Harry wanted him to feel welcome, and not like ‘the new guy’ all session. Plus, at the rate they were getting changed, he might be the only one still there once Harry was dressed.

“Me?” His eyes widened in surprise.

The rest of their teammates hitched their bags on their shoulders and walked out. “You two good?” Mitch asked, walking backwards towards the door with everyone else.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Harry said without thinking before turning back to the new guy. Harry shrugged. “If you want, of course.” He could always hurry and catch up if he needed.

“Oh,” he repeated. “Cool.” He pulled his towel off his shoulders and wound it up. Harry tensed, already knowing what was coming. The towel snapped and Harry tried to avoid it as best as he could, which was almost not at all. 

“Hey!” Harry yelped. It had been ages since he had a worthy towel-snapping partner. “Never mind about bringing out the welcome wagon,” he said with a smile. Harry twisted his towel quickly and snapped back.

He hit the guy on the thigh, dangerously close to his bits. Harry protectively cupped his own, which was thickening up a bit, frustratingly. It could never just stay put when he wanted it to. Harry wasn’t looking on purpose, but it was also hard to miss the way the guy’s own dick swung between his legs, thickening up as well, if Harry wasn’t mistaken. Not that he was thinking about it too closely. No need to make things awkward. 

Just bros being bros in the locker room. 

Harry lost the grip on his towel, and it fluttered to the ground. The other guy took a step forward, reached down to pick it up, and stepped closer to Harry to return it. Close enough for Harry to see the occasional grey hidden in his beard, the unruly pit hair, still wet and clumped together, the way his dark chest hair continued down, through the middle of his belly and directly to his— 

Harry jerked his eyes up to see the the other guy's questioning look.

He took a step closer, maintaining eye contact with Harry the whole time, and draped the towel over Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s breath was caught in his throat. Harry watched as he dragged his eyes up Harry’s body. Harry unsuccessfully willed his dick not to twitch under the scrutiny. 

Harry could feel the heat from his breath when the guy said, “Could give you a hand with that, if you wanted.”

Harry’s knees were weak as he nodded. They were in a public place—they were the last group to use the gym, and it was late, but still—and he had never been propositioned like this, like just by standing here he could have a new friend jerk him off.

“You sure? You look a little nervous.”

Harry nodded again, cleared his throat and said, “Yeah… let’s…” He was going to say something about the locker room, that he’s never done this sort of thing, but the guy’s hand was sliding down the side of his ribs, his fingers draping along Harry’s treasure trail, and then his hand was on Harry’s dick; tight and sure, like he made a habit of wrapping it around other guys’ dicks, and the rest of Harry’s words were lost. 

Harry whimpered at the feeling. He was going to come in an embarrassingly short amount of time, with the way he was twisting his wrist and swiping his thumb along that one sensitive part under the head. Harry wasn’t sure what the right protocol was for touching another dude while he was giving a hand job, but Harry stumbled forward and put out his hands to catch himself, right along the guy’s hips. 

He had never done it before, but if there was a time for trying, that time had come, so Harry slid his hand down too, slowly, giving him time to give any indication he didn’t want one in return, and then grabbed hold of his dick. It was awkward at first, doing it backwards, the wiry pubic hair was on the wrong end and he wasn’t sure what the guy liked, but the way the guy was working over Harry, pulling out the most obscene moans and making him convulse in pleasure, Harry wanted to try and return the favor the best he could.

“I’m…” He couldn’t even get out what he was trying to say, that he was going to come, because every other part of his brain except his pleasure synapses were failing him. “ _Ngggh_.”

He panted in Harry’s ear, and the whispered “quiet” that fell from his lips combined with the knee-weakening twist of his hand had Harry locking up and coming into this guy’s hand.

Harry was always come-stupid at the best of times, falling asleep immediately after or zoning out so deeply he might as well be asleep—it’s why he was always sure to get his partners off first, so the girls wouldn’t consider him a bad partner. He was aware that he should’ve still been stroking, but all he could manage to do was sway and take in deep breaths. And then the guy was swatting Harry’s hand away. Harry looked down to see him take his own cock. It quickly became slick from Harry’s come and the guy gripped Harry’s shoulder tightly as he tensed and sucked in lungfuls of air. 

“So hot,” the guy grunted, and as his nails dug into Harry’s shoulder, he was coming, squirting not onto the floor or his own hand, but onto Harry’s thatch of pubes right next to his dick. 

Harry had just showered, but his towel was right there, and there was something dirty about going out to the bar, covered in someone else’s sex. He did a cursory wipe, not even double checking that he got it all. Then put out his hand for a shake. “Thanks man. I’m Harry.”

“Jeffrey.” 

***

Riding with Jeff was a great idea, not only because Harry got the best hand job of his life out of it, but also his car was clean—unlike the total disaster that was Niall’s. It was luxurious too, with seat heaters and coolers, temperature controllers for each side of the car, SiriusXM. They agreed on the Fleetwood Mac station and made small talk the whole way to the bar. Jeff was quiet, but funny too, seemingly content to let Harry ham it up with a fake microphone. No one would ever accuse Harry of not being dramatic when the moment called for it. 

“What took you so long?” Niall asked when they arrived, Jeff holding the door open for Harry to pass through first. “Almost ate all of your wings.”

“You’d never,” Harry said, mock affronted. Actually Niall would 100% eat all of Harry’s wings, but maybe he felt slightly guilty about leaving Harry back at the rec center. Niall was forgiven, given the series of events.

“This is Jeff,” Harry introduced him, “in case anyone missed his name earlier.”

There was a round of back pats and hand shakes and ‘good games’ as everyone introduced themselves to him. Harry was glad they were all being nice. He wanted Jeff to stick around; maybe he could eventually become part of their normal friend group. 

As tradition dictated, Harry sat next to Niall and started in on his wings, catching up with his best friend and telling him about the marketing campaign he had been assigned to at work that day. He kept a protective ear open, making sure that the others weren’t going in too hard on Jeff. He had mostly left well enough alone, everyone was playing nice, until the girlfriend conversation came up. Harry’s interest was piqued. If Jeff had a girl at home, he’d feel much differently about how everything went down. 

“Nah. I’m gay,” Jeff answered breezily, even as his hand went tight around his pint. 

“Oh, boyfriend then?” Liam asked, easy as anything. 

“Single for now,” Jeff said, hand relaxing. 

The conversation turned to razzing on Mitch for his recent engagement, and Harry kept his mouth shut through that too. Harry loved Mitch and Sarah, and how much they loved each other. The idea of spending his life with someone was the most romantic thing he could think of. As soon as he found the right girl. He wasn’t as picky as everyone said, he was just… well, maybe he was picky. But who could blame him, the rest of his life was a long-ass time.

It was interesting that Jeff was gay though. Harry hadn’t picked up on that at all. He’d have to let Jeff know that he wasn’t gay, in case the shared hand jobs gave him the wrong impression. 

***

As the session progressed, and the locker room hand jobs before Pizzazz became a new tradition, Harry never quite found a way to work into his conversations with Jeff, in a non-homophobic way, that he wasn’t gay. 

Harry was really glad Jeff had signed up to play floor hockey with them.

***

“Hey, Niall?” Harry was relaxing on their couch, hungover from their night of beer pong, melting into the cushions, as if he was becoming one with the couch. Niall lolled his head toward Harry. “You ever shared hand jobs with a friend?”

“No thank you,” Niall said.

“It wasn’t an offer,” Harry scoffed.

“What the hell are you talking about then?”

“Like, in college, or like, whenever, you’ve gotten off with a friend, right? Not in a gay way, just in a bros helping each other out way.”

Niall sat up straighter. “No.”

“Huh. Okay.” Harry went back to watching the _Bones_ marathon. 

“I’m not judging anyone who gets off with their friends. I’m just not gay. Or bi or whatever. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, obviously. But no no-strings-attached jerking it with a bro pal for me.”

“But…” Harry struggled to sit up straighter too. “Just because someone does give their friend a hand job, that doesn’t make them gay.”

“Sounds pretty gay to me.”

“But—”

Niall sat back and watched as Harry processed his thoughts, waiting patiently as Harry struggled to form words. He figured Niall would’ve had this experience too; he had been in a frat. 

“Harry, is there something you want to tell me?”

Harry’s breath caught in his chest. He’d definitely know if he was gay. Like, for sure. Just because he and Jeff had become fast friends and shared weekly hand jobs, that didn’t mean that he had feelings toward Jeff. 

“It’s okay, if there is something. You’re still my best friend forever.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Pretty sure I’d know if I was gay.”

“But, you did choke someone’s chicken?”

It had been hard, keeping it a secret. More than once he had stopped himself from telling Niall about some hilarious joke Jeff had said or how good he was with his hands. He had been pretty euphoric the past few weeks. 

“Is it the same person who’s got you glued to your phone?” Niall asked. 

Okay. So maybe they were texting a lot too. But Jeff hated his job at his family company and needed someone to bitch to. And Harry liked being that person. 

“Um…” Maybe he was a little bit gay. 

“Haz.” Niall put a soft hand on his back. “Breathe.” Harry hadn’t needed his inhaler for ages. He could do this, he could get himself under control before Niall panicked. 

He managed a deep breath. 

“Haz, honestly, it’s totally fine.”

“I just… I’m so stupid. How did I just realize I have a crush on him?” Harry put his head between his knees and took some more deep breaths.

“Jeff?” Niall asked. 

“Oh my god,” Harry wailed. “Is it that obvious?” He looked up to see Niall’s reaction.

“Obvious is probably too strong of a word, but I know you two have gotten close. And you’re different around him. Quieter, or like, always looking for his reaction.”

“Am I… Do you think I’m gay?”

Niall shrugged. “I can’t really answer that.” Neither could Harry. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s into you.”

Harry felt his face turn red. “Oh god.”

“Have you already given him a shamrock shake or is it something that you want to do?”

Harry hid his face in his hands. “Every week.”

“Every week?”

“Since the first game.”

“Harry!” Niall punched him in the bicep. “No wonder you’ve been so happy. Get it, dude.”

“I just thought…”

“That you were platonically sharing handies with a gay dude that’s giving me a run for my money as your best friend.”

He leaned back against the couch. “How do I flirt with a guy?”

Niall cackled until he started to cough. “I reckon it’s the same as with a girl.”

“What if it’s not?”

“You’ve always gotten anyone you set your eyes on. Pretty sure he’s already interested too, with the way he’s always got one eye on you and thinks you're the funniest person in the world. And like, all those tug jobs.”

“I am the funniest person in the world. I’m glad he recognizes that, unlike you.”

“Your puns are shitty. But, he doesn’t know that, or doesn’t care, so already it’s looking good.”

“Oh my god,” Harry wailed again. He had no idea how he was going to tell Jeff what an idiot he’s been. 

***

The locker room cleared out like always, leaving only Harry and Jeff. It was also the last night they had games scheduled, and Harry had tried not to think too hard about what that meant for him and Jeff. They had become friends, sure, but it was really based on their weekly floor hockey games. 

They were in neighboring shower stalls when the last of their teammates left; they had all realized weeks ago it was pointless to wait for them, and that Harry and Jeff would take their sweet time arriving at Pizzazz. Jeff pulled Harry’s curtain to the side a few inches and he raised his eyebrows suggestively. Harry’s dick was already hard, but he thought it only fair to have the conversation before they got off, in case Jeff no longer wanted anything to do with him. Now that he knew he might be gay, it felt like he might be taking advantage of Jeff if he didn’t say anything. 

Harry turned off his water and joined Jeff in his stall. Jeff was already stroking himself under the spray, and Harry couldn’t wait to touch. Not just Jeff’s dick, but his thighs and paunchy stomach, wanted to comb his fingers through Jeff’s hair, and get down on his knees for him, someday. Maybe it should’ve been more obvious that Harry was gay. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked. 

“Of course.”

“Do you think I’m gay?”

“Do I… what now?” Jeff’s hand stilled. 

“I… when we started this… when we met. I was straight. But I was talking to Niall—”

“What?”

“And he made me realize that maybe I’m into you.”

“Maybe?” Jeff generally had sad eyes; one of the things that brought Harry great joy was seeing Jeff break into a smile and his eyes light up. Jeff’s eyes shone, as he unsuccessfully tried to prevent a smile.

Harry snorted. “Heeeey,” he drew out. “It’s a big thing. Realizing I’m gay. Or whatever.”

Jeff’s hand grazed down Harry’s arm. “Not making fun, just… I’ve been trying to figure you out the past few weeks. This… it makes sense, looking back.”

“Do you still want this, with me, now that I’m… you know?”

“Do I want to keep having gay sex with you now that I know you’re probably gay and you’re into me and not just using me for my hands? I hope you don’t actually want me to answer that.”

The locker room door slammed open and the lights flashed on and off. “Five minutes till closing!” a voice boomed. 

Jeff groaned. “Well, that answers that.”

“Do you not want to…?”

“Want to what?”

“Do you not want to keep this up, after, like… am I just someone you get off with because it’s convenient?”

Jeff laughed as he turned off the water. “Harry Styles, nothing about you is convenient.”

“So you do…?”

Jeff cut to the chase. “What do you want?” 

“I want us to go back to mine. Or yours. I’m not too fussy. And I want to have sex in a bed. With you. Then sometime this week I want to go out on a date that doesn’t end up with us in a communal shower.”

“Okay, yeah. I can arrange that,” Jeff said as he shuffled Harry out of the shower cubicle and over to the lockers. 

***

They ended up at Jeff’s apartment, so that Niall wouldn’t bother them when he got home after Pizzazz. Jeff’s apartment was just nicer and sparser than Harry imagined, even after learning what exactly it was that Jeff did for his dad’s business and spending all that time in his fancy car.

“Want a drink?” Jeff asked, his eyes already dark and roaming over Harry’s body. 

“Maybe before round two,” Harry said with an exaggerated wink. 

Jeff shook his head, held Harry’s hand in his, and brought Harry’s knuckles up to his lips for a kiss. “Feels cheap, directing you straight to the bedroom; like I should put on a movie, fix you a drink, or something.”

Harry wrapped his arm around Jeff’s shoulders and pulled him in close. “Please don’t make me wait any longer. I swear I haven’t had blue balls this bad since high school.”

“As you wish,” Jeff said. 

Still holding hands, Jeff led him back down the hallway to his bedroom; neat and clean as the rest of the apartment, not even a wrinkle on the slate grey bedspread, not a dirty pair of socks anywhere on the floor. Coming back to his was such a good decision on Harry’s part. 

“I’m nervous,” Jeff said, squeezing Harry’s hand. “I know it’s stupid. We’ve done this so many times already, but this feels more…”

“Real?”

“Yeah. Hard to fuck up a hand job but now—It’s overwhelming. What do you like?”

“I like your hand jobs.” Harry pressed his hands on Jeff’s shoulders, then ran them down his arms, until their fingers were linked. After a second he gently yanked on the hem of Jeff’s shirt and started unbuttoning it from the bottom up. “Like looking at your body.” Harry maintained eye contact until he got to the top and slid the fabric off Jeff’s back. He pulled his own t-shirt off and, with his hands firmly on Jeff’s waist, tipped his head up for a kiss. Kissing a man was different, but not significantly so, just rougher on the chin from the beard burn. After a few minutes, harder than before and already rutting against Jeff’s thigh, Harry pulled away and said, “Like kissing you.”

“It’s a real good start,” Jeff said, tugging on a belt loop of Harry’s jeans. “Want to take these off?”

Harry nodded. “You too.” He shimmied them off his hips, and then pulled down his boxers, to free his cock, which bobbed out proudly. But then he had to sit on the bed and untie his shoes and pull them and his socks off before he could pull his pants off the rest of the way. He looked to see that Jeff had been much more sensible, pulling his shoes off first and neatly lining them up next to his closet door. He pulled off his pants and dropped them into the hamper, then he picked up the two shirts on the floor and dropped them in as well. 

“Want to get comfortable?” Jeff asked with a nod of his head toward the bed as Harry stepped out of his pants. 

Harry chucked the comforter off the bed, and slid between the sheets; cool and soft and probably a million thread count. 

Jeff still looked nervous as he walked toward the bed, so Harry tried to make it look inviting, patting the space next to him gently. “Come on,” he said. 

“I’m coming,” Jeff said, finally taking a few steps.

Harry couldn’t help himself. “Hopefully not yet.”

“Oh god. You never stop, do you?”

“Nope.” Harry shook his head. “And unfortunately, you seem to like it.”

He was worried Jeff was still going to try and treat him with kid gloves, so once Jeff got into bed, Harry slid over, and sat in his lap, straddling his thighs. He felt like he was becoming addicted to Jeff’s chest hair, the way it felt against his hands as his fingers scratched patterns over it. Jeff’s dick strained against his boxers, and Harry longed to free it. Harry rolled his hips, and Jeff moaned under him. Harry snapped the elastic waistband. “Can I take them off?”

Jeff nodded, and Harry took his weight off Jeff’s thighs so together they could work to pull them down. As soon as he could, Harry got a hand around Jeff’s dick. He wanted to come, but first he wanted to watch with full attention as Jeff fell apart under him. Harry knew by now that Jeff liked it wet, so he spit into his hand as Jeff writhed beneath him. It made a slick sound when he started properly working Jeff over, tight and fast, and Harry loved the way he could have Jeff whimpering and tensing in moments. He came quickly, just like Harry wanted; he hadn’t been joking earlier about hanging out then going for a second round. 

Harry had also learned how much Jeff liked to come in Harry’s pubes, which is not something Harry had really thought about, other than noticing how wet some girls got as they were grinding and fucking, but he’d grown to love it too. When he had sat and thought about it, he realized how much he liked being marked as Jeff’s, going back out into public with traces of Jeff still left on him, the secret thrill it gave him, but alone in Jeff’s bedroom, Harry didn’t want it any less. He had caught Jeff’s come, some of it anyway, and rubbed it on his own cock, letting it drip down into his pubes, and the moan that Jeff let out was so worth it. 

Jeff flipped them, so Harry was on his back in the next second and Jeff was moving down the bed, settling between Harry’s thighs. 

“This okay?” he asked, as he sunk his teeth into the meat of Harry’s inner thigh.

Harry managed a noise that was an assent and thankfully Jeff realized it as he moved up, licking and drooling on Harry’s thighs, soaking the hair the closer he got to the junction of Harry’s thigh and hip. Harry hadn’t properly showered, wasn’t sure if the quick rinse he’d had before moving over to Jeff’s shower would’ve done anything to quell the stench and sweat from the game. Either way, Jeff seemed into it, taking in loud inhales as his nose was buried in Harry’s groin. Harry placed a hand on the back Jeff’s head; not to keep him there, but to steady himself with the overwhelming humanness of it all.

Jeff curled his fingers into Harry’s pubes, relaxed his fingers, then did it again, dragging his nails through the sensitive skin and making Harry shiver beneath his touch. 

“This okay too?” Jeff asked, before taking one of Harry’s balls in his mouth. He tongued at it, let it rest in his mouth, sucked gently. 

Harry could barely manage a ‘yes.’

“How about this?” Jeff cupped Harry’s balls with one hand, and with the other he lightly stroked down Harry’s perineum. His finger dipped lower, into the course hairs surrounding his asshole. “Can I eat you out?”

Harry gripped Jeff’s hair tightly. He’d never had that done to him, wasn’t sure that he was ready for ass stuff, just yet. But Jeff’s finger felt startling good, dancing on the edge of intrusion and pleasure, and Harry was too caught off guard to say anything definitive. 

“Maybe another day,” Jeff mumbled against Harry’s thigh. “Eat you out for hours, until you’re crying. Until you’re soaked. Until you forget where your body ends and my tongue begins.”

Harry’s cock gave a kick of interest.

“Good to know,” Jeff purred. “How about a blow job for now?”

“Please,” Harry whined. He was so wound up and couldn’t wait to fall apart with Jeff’s mouth around him. 

Jeff’s mouth was so wet, he let his drool drip down Harry’s cock until it was pooling at the base, in Harry’s tight curls. Unintentionally Harry bucked his hips, and Jeff held his hips down with one arm as he spread his drool and come through Harry’s pubes with his other hand. Just as Harry got used to the sensation, the wet open mouth suddenly became a tight suction. Harry gasped as he held on to Jeff for dear life. He felt like a live wire ready to snap and he just needed Jeff to throw the switch. 

He did, keeping constant pressure on Harry’s cockhead with the roof of his mouth while focusing his tongue on that _one fucking spot_ that drove Harry’s pleasure. Harry bucked his hips again, as much of a warning as he could pull together, before the pooling pleasure at his groin grew stronger and all at once overtook him. He gripped Jeff’s neck as he seized up and shot into his mouth. Jeff let that go too, dripping down onto the mess that was already there in his wet pubes. 

Harry pushed it around lazily as Jeff caught his breath against Harry’s inner thigh. 

As the silence ticked on, Harry’s nerves grew. It certainly seemed like Jeff wanted this to last longer than tonight, but Harry was used to gathering his things and heading out after everyone came. 

“You put my shirt in the hamper,” Harry said, eventually. 

Jeff kissed where he had been breathing heavily then looked up. “I can wash it? You can wear one of mine home tomorrow, if you want.”

Harry turned to hide his smile in the pillow that actually smelled clean. “Yeah, okay.” 

Jeff finally moved, making his way up Harry’s body and settling under Harry’s arm, curling into his side. “Now what?” Jeff asked. 

“I have to text Niall. Tell him I’m not coming home tonight,” Harry didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but the uptick was unmistakable. 

“Okay. Then I can figure out something for a late dinner? Maybe a round two after that?”

Harry kissed the top of Jeff’s head, the pounding of his heart settling. “Yeah, sounds great.”

“And there’s no hockey next week.”

Harry turned to look at Jeff, not knowing where he was leading. 

“I could take you out on a date instead. One that doesn’t end in a locker room shower. If you still want. Now that this is—”

“Real.” Harry gently bit the meat of Jeff’s shoulder. Real. “Yes.” He snapped his head up and caught Jeff’s eye. “Yes. I want. That’s… yes.”

“We don’t have to wait that long,” Jeff countered, eyes crinkling at the ends. “What about tomorrow night?”

Harry was supposed to go for drinks with the guys. They’ll understand though, since he’d never ditched them for a date. Unlike Niall. It was a running joke when he did actually show. Harry just had to figure out a way to drop into the text that he’s gay, and going out with a guy they all already approve of. But that was something for future Harry to deal with. 

“Tomorrow night is perfect.” As Harry’s stomach growled for dinner, he giggled and snuggled back into Jeff’s side. Perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites. I'm not currently allowing translations either. Thank you for respecting my wishes.
> 
> [Here's a tumblr link if you enjoyed it, and want to reblog!](https://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/post/614052926555553792/)   
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